


The Perfect Vessel

by Leonawriter



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1316896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonawriter/pseuds/Leonawriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Bakura family is one of several tombkeeper clans, the Millennium Ring finding its way into Ryou Bakura’s hands has much more far-reaching consequences to his and his father’s lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Vessel

Unlike some, the Bakura family didn’t tend to stay down in the tunnels.

If they had, then perhaps not so much of what happened later _would_ have happened - but the point is that they didn’t, and because they were thought of as strange, no one cared very much. Because even though they were strange, they still knew that, at the very least, they would never betray the secrets of the tomb keepers to the outside world.

Not unless they ended up taking people from the outside and bringing them in, of course. Which was how Dawar, most recent in the family line that had become known with the name of ‘Bakura’ by means unremembered, had found his wife.

The woman had been, to them, an exotic type of person. Part Japanese, she didn’t look like them, and she didn’t always sound like them, either, with her own language that most were entirely unfamiliar with.

Some wondered whether Dawar had done the right thing even in bringing her in, as her presence might cause those already tempted to become curious about the outside world… especially one small boy, should he ever see her.

Because of this, Marik was kept far away, in the hope that his inability to be honoured by his place and his role would not be made worse.

This became yet harder when the woman bore Dawar two children, born within a year of each other.

The boy, they named ‘Ryou’ in the tongue his mother’s family had brought with them, with the hope that soon, the task of the tombkeepers would be complete.

Unlike his younger sister, who would have darker hair and green eyes, Ryou looked much like his father, white-haired as though already aged in the womb, and with brown eyes.

 _Ra has smiled upon them_ , only a few dared to say. _Ra is displeased, and has taken their light and colour away_ , was the far more common, whispered among themselves in the corridors and quiet places _Ra smiles on the Ishtars, with their sun-hair._

Who even knew who was right, but the fact remained that their appearance singled them out, both among those they knew in the tunnels, and above the ground in the bustle of modern day life.

In many ways, Dawar was relied upon for the unsightly things that others could not do. To go out in the sun, to speak in other tongues, to trade, to keep an ear out at all times for any news of the Pharaoh’s return.

No one else could do these things. Not many, at least, and keep their standing.

Both Ryou and Amane were schooled by their mother, by the other women and the menfolk when they had time. They learned their numbers, and their letters, and from their mother, in the privacy of their own home and the secrecy of family, they learned her Japanese, careful not to speak a word of it in earshot of others - and if by accident they did, passed it off as a nonsense language, designed by children.

They were five when Dawar took them outside for the first time, eyes wide with wonder at all the strange things they were seeing, hearing, for the first times in their lives.

From then on, they were taken out more frequently. It was accepted that one day, Ryou would become old enough to take on his father’s role, providing for the needs they could not supply for themselves and becoming their eyes and ears.

Once Ryou was seven, their mother decided they were old enough that she could go back to her old work, vowing not to say a word of the tombkeepers she had been living with and would return to every few weeks. Going back to her explorations and her adventures with a new understanding of how much respect the gods required.

Ryou was eight when Amane had gone with their mother on one of her many expeditions, and they had never come back. Dawar had searched the site, leaving his son with friends back in the tunnels as he and others looked for any sign of his wife and daughter.

They found them too late, and the whispers of the Bakura family being cursed began to circulate from the idea that the gods were displeased, and had brought their wrath down. They would not listen when told that it was, merely and nothing more, due to equipment failure. An accident.

Dawar would spend many months in grief, mourning their loss. He would go through his duties, but with a dull gaze. His work remained, but his light had gone, dimmed only to the faint glow of his son, who still needed him.

Yet duty came first, and cared for no man’s grief. In as little time as was needed to put together the pieces of his shattered life and give some semblance of ‘normality’ again, news arrived that would shake them all.

The Millennium Ring had been misplaced.

All knew that it held within it a spirit of evil, one that would burn the hearts of those foolhardy men who dared to dared so much as wear it for its power.

And gone, out of the safekeeping of the Tombkeepers, it was even more dangerous than ever, capable of going from owner to owner, causing a potentially vast bodycount… and bringing attention to the Items, to their power, to the tales attached, to their origin and the Tombkeepers’ very existence.

It came as no surprise to him that he was tasked with its return.

Nor did entirely surprise him when he found his son preparing himself to head out into the sunlit world with him. He almost prepared himself to say no, that it was too dangerous. But if he did, then what? The boy would have to do dangerous things one day, and he was nearly an adult in the eyes of the Tombkeepers already.

Later, he would wonder whether things would have gone better or worse for them all if he had insisted that the boy stay behind.

The search, while made simple by the fact that news of the deaths it caused travelled fast, still took several days. Days of frustration and nights spent in hotel rooms wondering just how bad this was going to get.

When they finally did track it down, it was in a market. A shady and somewhat harried looking man with a stall that was nothing much more than a fold out table and a cloth to cover it. And on the cloth was the one thing that they’d been searching for.

Ryou, of course, was far more interested in the cards the man his father was haggling with, trying not to make a scene, keep him quiet.

"Papa, hey papa, aren’t these like those…?"

The man across from them smiled widely at the barely disguised interest.

"You know, I’m sure I’ve head some kind of rumour that these two things are connected! I tell you what, I’ll give you both for a discount, yes?"

Dawar sent a cautionary look at his son, who at least had the grace to look ashamed for interrupting and nearly bringing certain secrets to light. But he still sent curious looks at the slips of card on the table regardless, and his father resigned himself to conceding.

They left with both, and a word of warning for the seller to not say a word of them and their purchase to any others who might come asking. Dawar couldn’t say he trusted the man’s promise, but at least they had tried.

And they had the Millennium Ring, which was what they had gone so far for.

A shiver went down his spine as he remembered the brief touch of gold against his bare skin as he took it from the man, well aware of how dangerous such an action even as small as that could be. A tingle of something static and alive - and then gone.

Sleeping.

As if he’d been weighed and measured, and found both wanting and unimportant at the same time.

The thought created a thrill of fear, of worry. Made him preoccupied when he should have been focused on getting himself and Ryou back to the tunnels without anything untoward happening.

He should have been more focused. If he had been, he would have stepped out of the way, and not been knocked into, not been brought to the ground, the contents of his bag spilling out.

If he’d been focused, Ryou might not have thought to pick the Ring up as his father righted himself. Ever a tombkeeper, the boy’s thoughts were first for the Item that was worth more than their lives. The cards, even in danger of being trampled, came second.

Dawar’s heart stopped at the idea that his son was holding onto the deadly gold for even a _second_ too long, a second too long and his eyes widened, just a fraction-

He took it back, depositing it into the bag again, with a quiet warning to the boy to be more careful in future. The thing could kill. It could have killed either of them.

Ryou bit his lip and nodded.

And yet despite everything else, despite everything else that he knew _might_ have made a difference, he _knew_ that if he had not left Ryou alone with the bag upon their return, when he left for only five minutes, it might have been preventable. If they had only taken the Ring back to the safekeeping of the inner tunnels where it had belonged…

Instead, he had arrived back to their small abode with one of the elders, still discussing what to do with it and how to make sure something of the sort never happened again, opened the door, and his son had turned around.

He had known immediately that it was not Ryou, that it was someone - no, some _thing_ \- else.

Everything about him was wrong, from his poise to his eyes to the simple way he looked at them, as if they were no more important than the rodents that a snake might feast upon.

He knew that gaze. He had felt it in the streets, and in the marketplace.

And yet, in seconds only, his son was _back_. Blinking innocently at them both, as though…

…as though there were not gold hung from his neck, as though it did not kill.

"Papa? Papa, what’s wrong?"

He didn’t understand.

"Papa?"

The man beside Dawar was watching the scene in outrage and horror and disbelief, but without the concern and fear that Dawar held close to his heart.

"Ryou. _No_. Oh, gods be _merciful.”_

The gods, as it turned out, were _not_ merciful.

Within the next hour they were both dragged in front of the heads of each of the families. Men discussing Dawar’s incompetence. Men he had respected, discussing the option of destroying his son’s future, of _killing_ his son - so that the Ring would be void of its ‘perfect vessel’.

How…

How could he even start to defy them?

He was of the family the gods frowned upon, he wouldn’t even be listened to if he tried. Who would allow his opinion to be heard, to not send him to the death along with his son, ending their line for good?

Still, the anger welled within him to a burning point.

_Your duty is to the Pharaoh. Anything else is for the sake of the tombkeepers. Should you act against either, your life is forfeit. As would be the case for any of us._

His _son_ 's _life_ was being decided on here _._

 _“_ The boy may be innocent enough,” he heard, as Ryou clung to him in fear, “but his existence is a threat to us all!”

"Surely if the Ring was kept from him, safely-"

"There is no surety! There is no safety! The thing found its way to the child once, it would do so again!"

He almost didn’t notice his son stop trembling, the grip on his clothes loosen.

Almost, but not quite.

He wasn’t holding his son any more. Yet he dared not let go. Because to let go would mean to admit that these men were right, and that was something that he could not and would not do.

He could, however, almost palpably sense the intent coming from the possessed boy.

If this was not stopped, people would die before the spirit allowed his son to be put to death.

“There’s another option,” he heard himself say. He felt everyone’s eyes upon him, the form of his son growing still, to listen. “Allow me-” and then tensed in a split second at the unformed thought. He swallowed. “Allow me to deal with my son.”

When they made to argue, aghast with indignation against his speaking up without their approval, he held up a hand for silence and attention.

“Allow me to have your ears for a mere moment more. While it is true that the spirit within the Millennium Ring poses a threat, would it not make more sense to spare the boy’s life? If he died, then we would have no way of knowing how the spirit would act.”

His words brought whispers among the men, judge, jury and potentially executioners debating among themselves.

"Are we not wiser for knowing the routes of the snakes, and the ways that they bite? The reasons why a scorpion stings? Yet let us never forget - we are not the ones that this snake will ultimately end up biting should we fail."

"Perhaps," one said once the discussions had died down somewhat, "we should think of you also as a snake, with your words and your ways."

"Then may the gods be willing, I should be a snake if it would be one that served the Pharaoh," he responded with a bow.

There was yet more discussion, and the wait was interminable, but eventually their verdict was reached.

His son would not die.

Yet.

He had bought them time and nothing else. He was under no delusions. But the ordeal was not yet over.

He turned to the boy, eyes hard.

"Give me my son back."

Eyes not quite brown any longer looked back at him in curiosity and amusement.

"You saved my life."

"I saved my _son’s_ life,” he corrected the spirit. “If the were some way of destroying _you_ without the chance that the Pharaoh would be at even a slight disadvantage, then I would do so immediately, without any hesitation. Now - give me back my son.”

Ryou - he knew it was Ryou - blinked, and collapsed in his father’s arms, fear in his face, and Dawar knew in that moment that his son remembered none of it.

 _The gods are certainly not smiling on us,_ he thought to himself as he carried the boy back to their home, gold on display causing many to stop, stare, point, whisper, _but they have not truly cursed us yet, either. I can only pray that they never do._

_…_

AN: Ended up longer than I thought! Uh - well, this is sort of like a prologue, and takes great liberties with the idea of how the tombkeepers functioned at all, as well as with Ryou’s _entire backstory._ Well, that bit was what makes it an AU after all, though. But if I’ve got anything drastically wrong (especially when it comes to culture),  _do tell me_.

I’d mentioned to some how Ryou’s dad ends up as a badass here, and that above is why.

And for the curious, the name I gave him, ‘Dawar’, means ‘wanderer’, the reasoning for which… will be expanded on in the next fic/chapter. But I specifically didn't want something that'd translate to either the name of a god, or of high rank, and also didn't want it to be too hard for a Japanese person to pronounce.  



End file.
